


Ice Cold

by Arkada



Series: Showing Off [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Avenger Loki, Canon-Typical Violence, Clone Sex, Competence Kink, Foursome - M/M/M/M, Friends With Benefits, FrostIron - Freeform, Knife fights, Loki is Team Iron Man, Loki’s clones, Loki’s knives turn Tony on, M/M, Team Tony, or at least
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:54:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21993286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arkada/pseuds/Arkada
Summary: Tony was mostly joking when he invited Loki to fight Steve in front of the entire Compound. But he’s not at all disappointed when Loki follows through...Or when Loki claims his just reward for victory.
Relationships: Loki/Tony Stark
Series: Showing Off [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1583200
Comments: 144
Kudos: 957
Collections: FrostIron*





	Ice Cold

**Author's Note:**

> If you really thought there was a possibility I owned the source material, I would love to live in your world.

In the past few months, Tony has gotten pretty used to walking into the Compound’s gym to see Loki beating the shit out of someone. Loki’s most common sparring partner is the Valkyrie, of course, who reliably beats just as much shit of him in return. On one memorable occasion, Tony was fortunate enough to witness Loki taking down Thor; only half-jokingly, Tony still considers himself lucky he didn’t get killed just by watching. Loki duels the other Asgardians rarely, since it’s not remotely a fair contest and Loki gets bored about as quickly as Tony does, but occasionally he’ll teach a promising youngster some moves.

Since the refugee Asgardians started their ‘cultural exchange’ visit to the Avengers Compound, watching Loki fight has been Tony’s primary form of entertainment. And since Loki caught him six weeks ago - well, since Loki caught him eight weeks ago and _called him out_ on it six weeks ago - they’ve struck up an informal exchange of sexual acts for particularly impressive feats of combat, which Tony has been taking shameless advantage of. Now, watching Loki fight comes with the added bonus of a hard fuck afterwards, or an exchange of blowjobs, or Loki pressing Tony against the wall and jerking him off. Loki, too, seems to spend an awful lot of time displaying his skills, and making _sure_ that Tony’s impressed, in expectation of being rewarded accordingly.

So it’s not a surprise that when Tony enters the gym, he sees Loki standing in the middle of the sparring mats, one hand dramatically outstretched and glowing with magic, surrounded by a staring crowd both human and Asgardian.

It _is_ a bit of a surprise that he’s apparently using his magic to strangle Wanda Maximoff from twenty feet away.

“Uhh, no killing in my gym, Vader,” Tony says loudly. Not that he’s opposed to killing people who volunteer to join terrorist cults, but he’s so not in the mood to deal with the bullshit that would inevitably go along with it.

Loki glances Tony’s way and gives him a barely-perceptible smile. Because Tony’s first impression of Loki was dead on - Loki is absolutely a diva, will peacock for any audience he can find, and is certainly enjoying the crowd of about a hundred or so people he drew before Tony got here. But Loki also knows that nobody appreciates it quite like Tony does, and Tony’s seen enough signals to feel confident in saying that he’s Loki’s favorite.

“Loki’s not killing her,” Thor says, meaty arms folded and hip cocked casually as he spectates. “If he were, he’d be doing a better job of it - I hope!” he shouts pointedly, and Loki laughs.

“Oh, yes. If I wanted her dead, she would be.”

Well, _that’s_ damn true. Tony’s always had a competence kink, and Loki dials it up to eleven for him. Loki wielding a knife starts dialing into number ranges usually reserved for the more theoretical branches of astrophysics.

Tony crosses the room to join the circle of onlookers, and glances at Maximoff, who is, indeed, not dead. She’s sure acting like she expects to be at any moment, though, scrabbling at her neck with her bare hands _and_ red strands of energy. There’s a gold ribbon of Loki’s magic wrapped around her neck, but no matter how hard she tries, she can’t get any purchase on it. The others in the gym - assorted Avengers, about half the SHIELD agents on base, and a couple dozen Asgardians - are certainly a little uncomfortable at the sight, but nobody’s leaping to Maximoff’s defense. They’ve clearly been here for a while; one of Loki’s knives lies abandoned at Maximoff’s feet, there’s a suspicious hole blasted through the ceiling, and the watching crowd is standing at a careful distance to avoid getting caught up in the fight.

Not that Tony can really call this a fight, when it’s so obviously one-sided.

“She’s perfectly fine,” Loki continues, “as long as she remembers the first lesson. Hm?”

No response from Maximoff. Her head’s tilted back like she’s making room for an actual hand on her throat, and her breath is coming in these pathetic little wheezes as she claws at the band of Loki’s magic. Judging by the way her skin isn’t compressed even a little bit, Tony’s pretty sure she’s overreacting.

“For those of us who were late to class,” Tony calls, “what’s the first lesson again?”

“The first lesson,” Loki recites, “is to never use a magical solution when another will do.”

Tony contemplates for a moment the face Stephen Strange would make upon being told he should just use starch to get his cloak to sit right, and almost snorts. 

“I’m sure you’ve worked out by now that you can’t break my hold,” Loki tells Maximoff, who still thinks she’s being choked. “Your next attempt should be to distract me, and force me to drop the spell.”

Maximoff does precisely nothing differently in response, and Tony rolls his eyes. It’s not _that_ hard. Distract Loki, huh? If it was Tony who needed to distract Loki, he’d start by walking over there and slapping his ass. Shooting him with a repulsor would probably work even better. Ruling both of those options out for Maximoff, who has neither a nanotech implant nor Loki’s consent to sexual activity, Tony figures the next thing on the list would be-

Loki’s patience with Maximoff’s efforts snaps. “You incompetent _idiot_ , pick up the knife and throw it at me!”

Yeah. That.

As one, every head in the room turns to where Loki’s knife lies within easy reach for Maximoff. Slowly, and Tony hopes she’s embarrassed as hell as she does it, Maximoff stoops down to scoop up the knife. She holds it clumsily, trying and failing to settle it comfortably, before giving up and just flinging it at Loki.

Loki turns on his heel to follow the knife as it goes wide and flies straight past him. The people behind Loki flinch back with shouts of alarm, right as Loki flicks out his free hand with another flare of magic and stops the knife in mid-air.

Dead silence, as the crowd stares at the point of the blade hovering just inches away from Scott Lang’s chest. After a few seconds, Lang himself reaches up with a shaking hand to tap the blade, as if he needs to check whether it’s actually lethally sharp - and knowing Loki’s knives, it probably is. Tony’s body shudders a little as the adrenaline rush of the near-miss murder tries to rewind itself. Across from Loki, Maximoff has both hands over her mouth, eyes fixed on the blade and her fingers white.

And since she missed Loki completely, he clearly didn’t consider it ‘distracting’ enough to warrant dropping the band of magic still wrapped around her neck.

Loki recalls the knife to his hand and tucks it away in a sheath strapped to his leg, before lifting his gaze to Maximoff again. “Curious move,” he says, intensely insulting. “I would have thought you’d had enough of killing innocents through your own carelessness?”

The gym door slams shut, and Steve’s voice rings out like a goddamn foghorn - loud, obnoxious, and nothing Tony wants to hear now or ever. “That’s enough, Loki!”

Tony rolls his eyes and doesn’t give a damn who sees him do it. The grand Captain America entrance was a shitshow to begin with and it has not gotten better with his and Steve’s recent _artistic differences_ in respecting legally-binding international treaties.

Steve strides through the gym like he owns it, which he most certainly does _not_. A gap in the circle forms to let his unnecessarily wide shoulders in, along with the shield strapped to his back, which apparently he just wears everywhere now, like the world’s gaudiest accessory. He’s not even in uniform, and frankly it looks ridiculous.

“Let her go,” Steve demands.

Loki doesn’t so much as twitch towards complying. “Miss Maximoff knows the sign to surrender, Captain. She may use it any time she wishes.”

“ _I said, that’s enough!_ ”

Loki condescends to raise an eyebrow. “Well, since you think her incapable of defending herself…” He lifts his hand and snuffs out the magic around Maximoff’s neck with a gesture.

Maximoff gasps for air like she’s drowning, and Steve turns to smother her in concern as if she’s a literal child. The SHIELD agents look relieved that somebody’s finally ended the unusually violent tutoring session; the Asgardians, on the other hand, appear distinctly displeased with Steve for ruining what probably seemed to them like harmless fun. Even Thor, who defers to Steve way more often than Tony thinks he should, is unimpressed. Tony glances at Barnes, to check his read of the situation; Barnes’s face is carefully, stonily neutral.

Intriguing. Trouble in paradise?

Satisfied that Maximoff isn’t dead, Steve rounds on Loki. “What the hell is your problem?”

Loki’s eyebrow raises another millimeter. “I offered to teach Miss Maximoff some points of magic, and she accepted. Is that not permitted?”

Steve leans in further, positioning himself between Loki and Maximoff. “Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?”

Loki spreads his hands at the assembled crowd. “My brother still lacks a suitable weapon, and the Valkyrie is back in New Asgard for the moment. Perhaps Stark in his suit could match me, but I decline to attack my own host. So who do you suggest?”

Tony permits himself a moment of admiration. It’s a subtle insult, but a good one, deliberately leaving Steve off the list of people who could handle themselves against Loki - and making sure to include Tony instead. Tony can see Steve tense up as he works it out too. It’s always a pleasure to watch a master at work.

Steve’s hands clench into fists. “You need to start showing some respect.”

Loki’s manner flashes icy in an instant. Where he was unruffled and toying with Steve before, suddenly he’s _dangerous_. “I am the Prince of Asgard, Captain. I need to respect my king and that is all.”

A murmur of agreement goes through the Asgardians, with an undercurrent of anger, and the Avengers look a little nervous. Tony hides his smile. Seems like they’re only now working out that Loki might not be flavor of the month on Earth, but Asgard’s opinion of him is pretty high at the moment. The smarter Avengers present - consisting entirely of Barnes and Wilson - are starting to realize Steve’s outnumbered.

Steve, of course, doesn’t have a clue. “And what _does_ your king have to say about this? Thor?”

Thor shrugs. “Loki did no wrong. Wanda did not ask him to stop at any point. Perhaps Loki isn’t the gentlest of teachers, but when the lesson means life or death in battle, he shouldn’t be.”

Steve clenches his heroic jaw, and reaches up and swings his shield from his back onto his arm. “Fine,” he mutters. “I’ll do it myself.”

Loki looks like he’s trying not to laugh; Tony sympathizes. “Do what, exactly? What do you think you need your weapon for? To _discipline_ me?”

“If you attack my team, there are consequences,” Steve pronounces. “You want a fight, I’ll give you one.”

Tony wonders what the consequences are if Loki fucks the team, since he’s done that a _lot_ more than once since he and Tony started doing… whatever it is they’re doing. _You want a fuck, I’ll give you one_? Somehow Tony doesn’t think Steve is Loki’s type.

On the other hand, Tony practically invited Loki to knock Steve down a couple pegs, a few weeks ago - well, he promised Loki any sexual favor he wanted if he cleaned Steve’s clock in front of the entire Compound - and Loki gleefully promised that _something could be arranged_.

Is this that moment?

Apparently not, as Loki shakes his head and declines to engage. “I don’t think you will. Why would I fight you when I can kill you any time I wish and barely lift a finger to do it?”

“You talk big,” Steve sneers. “I’m yet to see you do anything about it.”

Loki arches that pointed eyebrow again. “You seemed afraid enough for Maximoff’s sake. You know what I’m capable of. Think on that before you decide to challenge me.”

“Think on what? That you’re too much of a coward for an honest fight?”

“Watch your tongue, Captain,” Thor warns, quicker than even Loki can get a reply in. “There are consequences for attacking my people, too.”

Loki smiles. “That’s the kindest warning you’ll get. I advise you stand down.”

“This has nothing to do with you, Thor,” Steve says dismissively. The tension in the room ratchets up another few notches; Tony savors it. “It’s not about Asgard or your people. But if Loki wants to stay here, he has to listen to me. My team, my rules.”

“I’m under Stark’s roof, not yours,” Loki says. “If _you_ want authority over me, you’ll have to earn it, and I don’t think you’re capable of that.”

Oh, was Tony ever wrong before when he thought Loki wasn’t gearing up to fight Steve. That’s _exactly_ what he’s doing. Loki’s reeling Steve in, all niggling little insults too small to justify retaliation on their own, but carefully targeted to wind Steve up, get him angry, trick him into making a mistake. Loki’s not going to be the one to make the first move - this whole scene, probably even starting from Maximoff’s lesson, has all been calculated to goad _Steve_ into starting shit. Give him a helpless victim to protect, a few digs to make him mad, and then Loki’s going to pretend to be the bigger person, with no other motives than self-defense when things turn physical…

It’s probably the hottest thing Tony’s ever seen Loki do.

Steve shifts his stance to being ready to let fly with the shield. “I look forward to proving you wrong.”

Loki sighs. “I still have a lesson with my student, Captain. If you’ll excuse us…”

“I’m _not_ your student,” Maximoff scoffs, from where she’s still standing behind Steve. “What more could you possibly want to teach me?”

“How to hold a knife would be a good start-”

Loki speaking rationally to Maximoff apparently drives Steve over the edge, and he swings back his arm and throws the shield straight at Loki.

Loki catches it effortlessly. The vibranium rings out loudly on impacting Loki’s palm, and Loki doesn’t even flinch. He just glances at the shield like he’s surprised to see it, and then looks back at Steve. “That was rude. Do you know nothing of sparring etiquette?”

“This isn’t sparring,” Steve says, and cracks his knuckles. “It’s a beating.”

A ripple of tension goes through the Asgardians; among the ones who are armed, more than one hand twitches towards a sword hilt. Thor unfolds his arms and his fingers curl into fists by his sides.

In response, the SHIELD agents move towards their holstered guns. Tony sees some of them measuring the distance to the door, or to an alarm to call backup. Barnes just sighs, shoulders slumping and hands shoved in his pockets, not looking in the least ready to jump to Steve’s defense. Next to him, Wilson grimaces. “This is not gonna end well.”

No. No, it isn’t, unless you’re Loki, who enjoys causing chaos, or Tony, who would pay half his fortune to see this fight and its inevitable ending.

Because Steve might be superhuman, but emphasis on the _human_ \- there’s no way he can actually stand up to an alien god armed with magic and a thousand years of combat experience. Steve’s right, this _is_ a beating, he’s just got the roles the wrong way around.

Tony looks forward to seeing him work it out.

“Is that so?” Loki asks. “Well, then, if it’s a beating…”

He flips the shield in his hand and - Tony doesn’t even _see_ Loki throw it, there’s just a silvery split-second blur across the room before the shield slams into Steve’s stomach in an absolutely _brutal_ hit.

Steve doubles over around it, the wind knocked right out of him and leaving him spluttering for air, clutching the rim of the shield. The sheer power of the throw forces him back a few steps.

Loki bares his teeth, openly challenging. “You’ll need that back.”

On edge, the room watches silently, waiting for Steve to move - either to beg for help because Loki just ruptured his spleen, or to ignore Loki’s warning and fight on when he’s clearly outmatched. Loki’s empty hand flexes open and closed again by his side, ready to go again. Tony glances around at the Avengers, half-expecting one of them to call it quits - but nobody moves, still looking to follow Steve’s lead. As soon as Steve gets his breathing back under control, that is.

Steve coughs twice before straightening up, disguising a wince in a hurry, and swings the shield onto his arm. He sets his feet and lifts his chin, and hefts the shield into a combat position. “You’re damn right I will.”

“As you wish,” Loki says, magics a knife into his hand, and throws it at Steve.

Steve ducks and snaps the shield up to cover his face and torso. Just as fast, Loki flings a second knife at Steve’s exposed legs.

The first knife bounces off the shield with a tinny ring. The second one sinks into Steve’s thigh.

The crowd gasps and Steve staggers, the shield falling to his side. He reaches down and rips the knife out - like an idiot, even Tony knows you leave a stab wound plugged - and then stares at it dumbly. The hilt fits normally in his hand, but the blade is tiny, more like a box cutter than an actual weapon. There’s a splash of blood on it, but it’s clearly not capable of really injuring anyone.

“You seem surprised,” Loki says. “But I’m not actually in the habit of killing my allies.”

Steve grits his teeth. “You aren’t taking this seriously, are you?”

“If I took you seriously, you’d be dead right now. Which would you prefer?”

Steve grits his teeth even harder, until it looks like he’s about to break something. “Listen here, you little-”

“Alright.” Loki flicks another knife into his hand, this one with a long, sharp blade that definitely means business. “You’ve made your point. We’ll do it your way.”

Which would sound a lot more respectful if he didn’t also tuck his free hand neatly behind his back and blatantly adjust his stance to compensate. Because Loki only needs one hand to take Steve down.

A smattering of excited cheers from the Asgardians says they got the message too. Tony refrains from joining in through sheer force of will.

And finally, an Avenger breaks rank. “Are you sure you wanna do this, Steve?” Barnes calls out, with just a hint of resignation like he already knows what the answer is.

Predictably as ever, Steve’s response is to tighten his grip on the shield and raise it back into position. “Yep.”

“And there’s no point in me telling you to suit up first, is there?”

Steve laughs. “You heard Loki - he doesn’t think this is a real fight.”

Loki smirks, and casually tosses the knife end-over-end, just playing with it now. “Certainly not.”

Steve plows onwards, blissfully ignorant to the insults Loki keeps laying on him. “See, Buck? Nothing to worry about.”

Loki flips the knife again, a trickier throw with a few twists as well. “Then why are you just standing there?”

The knife goes up a third time, a gentle lob nice and high, and Tony watches Steve’s eyes track it. It’s too obvious a target to resist, and Steve lets the shield fly, perfectly timed to connect with the knife in mid-air.

Or it _would_ , if Loki hadn’t already snatched the knife back.

The crowd flinches as the shield whistles over their heads, bounces off two walls and shoots back to Steve’s hand. Loki waits politely for him to catch it before closing the gap between them in a blur and swinging the knife in.

Steve blocks that strike with the shield, and jumps back from the low kick Loki aims at his ankles. But Loki’s fucking tall, and slams a second kick into Steve’s thigh easily, catching him perfectly in the little slice he left earlier. Steve almost hits Loki’s foot with the shield in return, missing by a hair as Loki spins away. The spin means the knife’s going even faster when Loki brings it back around, and Steve manages to deflect it but not block it completely.

The knife comes away with blood on the tip and a new cut left in Steve’s shirt, which Tony sees clearly because Loki takes a few steps back and pauses to let everybody look.

Tony conceals his grin. Loki might be having fun over there, but the show is for Tony, and this is everything he wanted from Loki at his maximum dramatic bitch.

The Asgardians clap, obviously considering this a round won. The SHIELD agents and the Avengers look at each other warily, less confident by the minute of how this will end. Tony feels smug on Loki’s behalf that Thor’s joining in with the applause, not the concern.

Steve takes a running jump and punches at Loki’s face. Loki brushes his fist aside and half-turns to slam his boot into Steve’s stomach, using Steve’s own momentum against him flawlessly. It can’t be comfortable after getting hit in the same place by the shield only minutes ago, no matter how fast the serum works to heal. And instead of shrugging off the blow, Steve hits the floor.

Loki steps back again, holding the moral high ground and not kicking Steve while he’s down.

Steve does _not_ appreciate it in the slightest.

He does a fancy kick-flip thing to get back to his feet, flings the shield at Loki’s face, then ducks low to aim a hit at Loki’s knee.

Loki drops the knife to catch the shield and bring it down in front of himself, so Steve slams right into his own weapon.

Steve bounces off and hits the floor again, snarls, and swings his leg around to trip Loki. Loki jumps over it lightly, drops the shield to pick his knife back up, and drives it into the mat so Steve’s second kick is heading right for the blade. Steve aborts and tucks his leg out of the way, rolls to the side to scoop up the shield, and scrambles back upright.

Where Loki’s waiting for him, knife at Steve’s neck.

Steve breathes heavily, not exactly ruined but definitely working harder than usual. In contrast, Loki is the coolest of cucumbers with barely a hair out of place.

Steve glances down at the knife resting against his jugular, up at Loki, and back to the knife again. It’s an unwinnable situation and he knows it, which is probably why he goes back to throwing insults instead of punches.

“You didn’t fight like this in Stuttgart,” Steve sneers. “What happened, you got embarrassed about how easily you lost and had to learn some new tricks?”

“Need I remind you that my purpose in Stuttgart was to make you bring me aboard your vessel, and you could hardly do that if I left you all dead.”

“You still went down easy.”

“ _You_ ended up disarmed on the ground. I went down to Stark, not you.”

Tony’s knees almost buckle at the onslaught of images _that_ sentence conjures. Loki with his hands up, surrendering, yet refusing to give up entirely - offering himself to Tony in exchange for being allowed to go free - maybe seducing Tony on the Quinjet ride, preferably without being interrupted by Thor snatching him away. Or kneeling right there in the plaza in Stuttgart, where he lorded it over that crowd so briefly, and begging for the privilege of sucking Tony’s cock before getting thrown in the Hulk’s cell on the Helicarrier. Or seducing Tony from _inside_ the cell, sitting with his knees spread so his pants pull tight and outline his cock under the leather, sliding both hands down his thighs like _you can have this, all you have to do is let me out…_

Tony blinks the fantasies away - well, he files them carefully for examining on a more private occasion - and refocuses on Loki and Steve. They’ve separated a few steps while Tony wasn’t paying attention, and Loki’s playing with the knife again while Steve tightens the straps holding the shield to his arm, as if that will change the course of this fight.

“Okay, warmup’s over,” Steve declares, and hefts the shield up. Tony smothers a snort.

“Very well,” Loki says, flips the knife in his hand, and buries it in Steve’s shoulder with a lightning-fast throw. Steve staggers a pace back, shield swinging wildly, and Loki kicks out, heel landing directly on the hilt of the knife to drive the last inch in.

Shouts of anger and shock erupt from the Avengers, but they’re drowned out by the Asgardians _cheering_. Loki follows that savage kick with a blow to the inside of Steve’s shield arm, making Steve drop the shield even further, seizes the hilt of his knife and pulls it free, then hooks his foot around Steve’s knee and _yanks_. Steve goes flying forwards to land face-first, and if Loki hadn’t retrieved the knife, the force of that landing probably would have sent it clean through Steve’s shoulder, hilt and all.

Loki grins, holds the bloody knife up in a triumphant gesture, and cries, “ _Asgard!_ ”

“ _LOKI!_ ” the Asgardians roar back, loud enough to rival an entire football stadium, and Tony feels their euphoria lift him as well. This isn’t just cheering because Loki’s the prince and they _have_ to - they are genuinely thrilled to see Steve bleeding out at Loki’s feet.

The humans, on the other hand, are not, and half of the Avengers and a good number of SHIELD agents start forward to help Steve out. The stubborn bastard halts them all with a raised hand, and gets back to his feet on his own. There’s blood on his shirt, but between the serum and Loki’s perfect aim avoiding anything critical, there’s not actually all that much of it. Tony’s seen Steve fight through worse injuries while less pissed off.

Steve hurls the shield at Loki while his back is still turned. Loki ducks instantly, drops the knife again and slams his palm into the floor. Steve’s shield whips over him and towards the watching crowd, none of whom can get away in time-

And a wall of _ice_ shoots up out of nowhere, engulfing the shield completely and stopping it in its tracks. Loki, crouched on the floor with his eyes fixed on the shield-berg, grins evilly. For just a split-second trick of the light, the hand Loki has on the ground looks blue.

Steve’s staring at the shield too, jaw dropped. “What the hell…”

“Now I see why you defended Maximoff so fiercely, Captain,” Loki says conversationally, standing smoothly and turning to face Steve again. He leaves the knife on the ground by his feet. “You too think nothing of killing those in your way to get what you want.”

Steve snarls fury and dives in, fists flying.

Loki blocks him easily, not in the least bothered by only using one hand, or by leaving himself deliberately unarmed to match Steve. He brushes Steve’s punches aside, dodges and weaves when that won’t work, and gives ground in a steady, careful circle that keeps them both in the center of the sparring mats. Patient. Waiting for the right moment. And when Steve inevitably screws up, Loki’s more than ready for it.

Steve overextends himself and leaves himself unguarded, and Loki kicks him in the knee, spins around to kick him in the knee with the _other_ foot, and steps back neatly as Steve staggers. Steve catches himself and goes in again, starting with a jump to gain height. But the two kicks to the knee mean he’s not as fast as he should be, and Loki simply grabs his ankle in midair and pulls him off-balance. Steve falls hard, and Loki waits for him to stand up before hitting him in the wounded shoulder. And that’s how things keep going, Loki on the defensive until he finds an opening to land a strike, Steve looking pretty much helpless.

Because Loki’s a god who’s been trained by gods, a prince who’s been trained by kings, and Steve… Sure, he’s got raw talent and the world’s best steroids, but Tony doesn’t think he’s ever been _trained_ by anybody. Loki’s moves play out like a chess master, everything perfectly calculated to give him an advantage three, four, ten steps later. But Steve’s fighting on instinct, nothing planned at all, and painfully inexperienced at defeating an opponent both stronger and faster than him. It’s a humiliating display of just how much Steve overestimated himself.

And the best part is that Loki’s _trying_ to humiliate him. He’s leaving openings that Steve fails to exploit, slipping in under Steve’s guard and then slowing down so the crowd can _see_ Loki’s strike coming - and he’s still doing it all with one hand behind his back. Steve looks like a flailing, desperate idiot who bit off way more than he can chew, and doesn’t know when to back down. The Asgardians probably don’t see a difference between him and any other SHIELD agent; just another human who’s no match for a god.

Tony is pretty much swooning.

And that’s the moment Loki chooses to look away from Steve for a second, and meet Tony’s eyes.

Tony has no idea what Loki’s seeing - satisfaction, delight, arousal - but Loki smiles at him anyway, just a tiny twitch of his lips that nobody else should notice. Tony smiles back, equally small since it’s probably an unwise career move to openly gloat at technically-the-leader of the Avengers getting his ass kicked.

Loki looks back to Steve, and with a twisting flip worthy of Simone Biles, kicks him three times in the face and sends him to the ground.

The humans groan in sympathy; the Asgardians go off like a rock concert audience.

Steve staggers back to his feet once more, but it actually takes him a long second to focus on Loki again. And he’s still not prepared for Loki to drop the defensive plays completely, and go on the attack - and it is an _attack._ Like flipping a switch, Loki’s no longer giving Steve a chance to fail; Steve doesn’t even get close to fighting back now. For every punch that Steve blocks or dodges, there’s a kick he doesn’t see coming, and Steve gets hit _everywhere_. Loki is a whirlwind of black leather and lethal skill, and all Steve’s best efforts don’t even seem to slow him down.

It’s painfully clear that _everything_ before now was Loki’s warmup.

Two swift punches to Steve’s jaw and midriff leave him gasping; Loki’s kick to the chest makes him stumble, and then Loki hooks his foot around Steve’s ankle and trips him. Somehow Steve manages to counter it, turning the momentum into a backflip to get away. But Loki simply twists to kick Steve halfway through his rotation, punting him twenty feet across the room.

Steve crashes down on the wooden floorboards, past the edge of the sparring mats. Tony grins. Steve _did_ set the terms at the start, and made it very clear this wasn’t sparring, after all.

Loki closes the gap slowly, stance relaxed, as Steve fights his way back to standing again. Loki stands there within easy reach, head cocked, watching Steve gasp and all-but keel over in exhaustion. “Had enough, Captain?”

And typical Steve, he manages to find a last reserve of energy somewhere, and throws a fist at Loki’s face.

Loki catches it effortlessly and squeezes tight, and lets the panic spread across Steve’s face before he moves. Loki spins Steve around, jerking his arm up between them, and uses it to push Steve to the floor. Then Loki steps on Steve’s back to hold him down, and Tony’s knees almost buckle.

“Enough,” Loki declares. “I trust you’ve worked out that you are not my match. Whatever you were trying to prove, it hasn’t worked.”

Steve struggles against Loki’s foot and goes nowhere. “Get off me!”

“When I’m done,” Loki snarls. “Do not mistake me for one of your soldiers. I am not under your authority in the slightest, and I heed your word only so far as I choose to. Do not forget it again.”

He digs his boot in with a little twist of his heel, and steps back.

Show’s over.

The Asgardians start cheering with unrestrained glee, and Thor gives Loki a firm nod of approval, probably for not killing anybody. The Avengers-and-SHIELD cohort are too stunned to do anything. Tony sees shock all over their faces, and wonders how many of them have actually seen Captain America lose a fight before.

Steve spits gracelessly, and pushes himself to his hands and knees. Loki walks smoothly over to where he left his knife, and picks it up.

Steve climbs to his feet, shaking his head. “You son of a bitch.”

Loki stops dead, and the words ripple outwards like an earthquake. The Asgardians freeze likewise, mid-clap in some cases, and the whole room is horribly, deeply silent for a long second.

Then they erupt in anger.

And Tony realizes they’ve worked out who, exactly, Steve’s calling a bitch.

Loki slowly turns on his heel, fingers white around the hilt of the knife. The look in his eyes almost scares even Tony.

And Steve _finally_ notices that he doesn’t have any sympathy left in the room. “Uh…”

Loki stalks back towards him, boots loud even over the shouting, and Tony is hit by the absolute conviction that he is about to watch Captain America just fucking die. Loki chucks the knife to the floor halfway there and advances bare-handed, a power move that does nothing to reassure Tony of Steve’s likely survival.

Steve raises a hand like that will stop him. “Loki, I-”

Loki’s first kick hits Steve in the stomach so hard he doubles over, head almost touching the floor between his feet. The second kick takes Steve under the chin and snaps him straight back up again. Steve flails, arms windmilling and blood coming from his mouth, and Loki grabs him by the throat - one-handed - and lifts him into the air before slamming him down into the floor.

The room goes quiet again, enough to hear Steve’s groans as he lies motionless in the broken floorboards.

Loki rises back to his full height and regards Steve coldly. He seems to be thinking up something cutting to say, but eventually he just turns his back and heads for the door like Steve’s not even worth threatening.

Loki meets Tony’s eyes on his way out. “I apologize for the damage done to your floor, my host,” he says, formal even for him. “I shall see it repaired before I return home.”

Tony’s response comes out entirely on autopilot and doesn’t seem to go via his brain at all, but it’s probably sufficiently polite; at least, none of the Asgardians look at him like he’s next on the murder list. Loki offers him another of those small smiles before he goes, the circle breaking wide open to give him plenty of room.

The next person to move towards leaving is Thor. He reaches Steve and stops, but doesn’t offer him a hand up out of the hole in the floor. “Do not insult Asgard’s queen again,” he says, voice a low rumble. “My brother will not be merciful a second time, and that’s if I don’t make my displeasure known first.”

And Thor walks away and leaves Steve behind in his crater.

Wow, wow, _wow_. Tony didn’t think it was possible to be more in awe today.

The Asgardians follow Thor’s lead, sweeping out behind him in an elegant, unimpressed flood, giving Steve a wide berth like he offends their delicate - or incredibly strong and principled - sensibilities.

Tony lingers, figuring he’d better at least _look_ like he’s on Team Human, and reluctant to leave before everything’s well and truly over.

Which is why he gets the immense pleasure of watching Barnes and Wilson pry Steve out of the broken floorboards, and each take an arm over their shoulders. Barnes shakes his head ruefully at Steve. “Told you to suit up, punk.”

Wilson snorts. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s what made the difference.”

Barnes gives a Winter Soldier glare at the remaining crowd until they unanimously decide to exit out the other door, and leave the way clear for Steve’s porters to half-carry him out. Clear except for Tony, that is, who has no intention of moving.

But he’s going to let Steve go. He’s going to revel in the moment and just admire the big hole left in the floor and the shield in the iceberg, he’s going to hold his tongue and not even _hint_ that he put Loki up to this.

Until Steve, right at the moment he’s closest to Tony, says, “What you do think _that_ was about?”

And every one of Tony’s good intentions finds someplace better to be.

“Do you want to know?” he says, and the three of them stop in their tracks. “You really want to know what that was about?”

“Stark?” Wilson says suspiciously. Every line of Barnes’s face goes carefully blank.

Tony folds both hands behind his back, partly to hide the way he’s so excited he’s shaking, and turns to face them properly. “Well, right at the end, that was for calling Loki’s mother a bitch. Could’ve warned you that wouldn’t go well.”

“That’s not what I-”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s not what you meant, but that’s not the important part of this story. Because everything Loki did up to that point? Was because I told him to. I told him to embarrass you in a fight in front of as many people as possible, and he _delivered_.”

Barnes closes his eyes with a sigh. Wilson’s jaw drops. And Steve gapes, blood still trickling from his mouth, before demanding, “What the hell was that for?”

“That was for deciding I didn’t need to know that my mom was murdered.”

Tony’s excitement has transmuted into rage now, and behind his back his hands are clenched so tight his skin feels like it’s splitting under his fingernails. Nobody has a response, which is good because Tony doesn’t want to hear it.

“I know Loki’s only a B-list Avenger, but man, am I feeling avenged right now. Bet it felt pretty terrifying, huh, getting hit by somebody you couldn’t hit back no matter how hard you tried? Knowing that if he decided to kill you there was nothing you could do to stop him? Not even sure why the hell _he_ was so mad at _you_ in the first place?”

Steve groans. “Tony…”

“No, I know, I know, and I’m done now. We’re done,” Tony says. “But just remember that the way you were lying on the floor back there was _exactly_ how you left me in Siberia.”

Tony turns around and heads for the door, not without a slight shiver of trepidation at having them all in his blind spot.

Wilson calls out, “Stark-”

“Let him have it,” Barnes says, and Tony’s hackles lower. “Siberia was fucked from start to finish, but the man’s got a point. Besides, I think Steve’s about to pass out on us.”

Indignantly, Steve protests, “I am _not_ -”

“You’d better not, because I’m not carrying your ass to Dr. Cho,” Wilson says, and that’s about when Tony gets far enough away he can’t hear them anymore. But he’s absolutely full to the brim with satisfaction, and can’t imagine how this day could get any better.

Which is when he rounds the corner, and spots Loki lounging vertically against the wall a short way down the corridor, smirking triumphantly at him, and he works out the _how_ pretty quickly.

“You,” Tony declares, closing the gap as fast as he can without looking desperate, “are a goddamn miracle worker.”

Loki grins, and lets Tony grab his collar and drag him in for a kiss. But he does take Tony by the hips and spin him around so Tony’s the one pressed to the wall, before really kissing him back.

Loki’s kisses are always amazing, and Tony melts a little into Loki’s hands. As ever, his skin is just a shade cooler than a human’s would be, and he takes command of the kiss as effortlessly as he commands the Asgardians. There’s this intensity that Loki gives off, like the only thing worth doing right now is this single kiss, and Tony savors the results shamelessly. Loki’s a hedonist to rival Tony and he knows what he likes, and lately what he likes has been making Tony’s bones turn to jelly.

Tony is more than happy to let him keep doing it.

Loki breaks the kiss to stare down at Tony, his hands flexing on Tony’s hips.

“And you,” Loki breathes, “owe me a debt.”

“I sure do. How about I get to paying that off right here, right now?”

Loki chuckles. “Your debt won’t be paid so easily as that.”

“That is excellent news and I am all for it,” Tony declares. “Your place or mine?”

Loki gives him one of those hungry, predatory smiles that says the next hour of Tony’s life will be absolutely _phenomenal_ , and settles his hands more firmly on Tony’s hips. Tony shuts his eyes right before the teleportation actually happens, which is great because his poor human brain still doesn’t know how to process watching that, and opens them again a few moments later in Loki’s room.

It’s _actually_ one of the Compound’s nicer guest suites, but thanks to another liberal dose of Loki’s magic, it _looks_ like the royal chambers on Asgard before they got blasted to smithereens. Everything’s gold opulence and medieval stonework, open fire and embroidered wall hangings, but with just enough good taste that nothing seems tacky or overdone. Tony loves it. It’s not often he gets to live like a king in a slightly more literal way than usual, and he’s had more than one fantasy along the lines of servicing Loki after a hard day’s ruling.

But this is about _Loki’s_ reward for a job well done, and Tony did promise him he could have whatever he liked.

“So how’s it going to be, Cheekbones?” Tony asks, turning to face Loki fully. “What do you want from me?”

Loki prowls closer, gaze thoughtful. “I’ve done quite a few things with you since this started,” he says, and reaches out a hand to trace down Tony’s cheek, then neck, then over his chest, as if reminding himself of places he’s touched before. His eyes snap up and pin Tony’s. “So now, I would like to do all of them at once.”

Hello, _marathon…_ Tony rubs his hands together gleefully. “Fair warning, I will require a snack break at some point and possibly a blood transfusion, but that sounds great.”

“Excellent,” Loki says with a grin, and then-

A flash of light out of literally nowhere, so bright Tony’s blinded for a second, and when he blinks the spots out of his eyes…

He’s staring at _three_ of Loki. And Tony’s seen Loki’s illusions before, but these copies don’t look like illusions. They’re not flickering, for a start, and they’re casting shadows, and the fur rugs under their feet are crushed out of shape…

Because actually, for real, standing in front of Tony are _three of Loki._

“Uh…”

“As I said. I am going to do all those things we’ve done together, _at once._ ”

Holy shit.

“Holy _shit_ ,” Tony says, and then his brain kicks his dick out the door and seizes the spotlight. “How do they work? Are you three separate people, or just one person in three bodies? Can you feel what they feel? How have I never seen you do this before? How long have you been able to do this? Which _you_ am I talking to anyway? How many can you-”

“Shh,” Loki says, with a raised finger pressed to Tony’s lips. “Amusing as your questions are, I’m not inclined to wait any longer for what I’m owed.”

“Yes, good,” Tony says against Loki’s finger, “let’s do that-”

Three sets of teeth flash white at him, and then three sets of hands start stripping his clothes off. Tony tries to return the favor, but peeling Loki out of his ridiculous leather getup is difficult at the best of times, and having three of him to undress does not make it any easier. Turns out it doesn’t matter, because once Tony’s naked, Loki - one of him, anyway - snaps his fingers, and just like that the three of them are equally naked.

“Bed,” Loki declares, and with a head-spinning rush of movement Tony finds himself on his back in the middle of Loki’s giant mattress, and one Loki crouched over him, hands and mouth touching Tony everywhere, Tony’s hips pinned between Loki’s knees. The other two, Tony sees when he can stop his eyes rolling back in his head, are each leaning against a carved bedpost and watching the show with matching smirks. Tony groans at the unfairness of making this even _hotter_ , and drags both hands up to touch Loki in return. He runs his fingers through Loki’s hair and then down over Loki’s back, caressing the planes of muscle. Loki shifts restlessly as he finds new parts of Tony to devour, and Tony loves the feedback loop of feeling Loki tense when he’s just about to go somewhere else, and then seeing where he ends up.

“To answer your question,” Loki says - one of the ones watching, and not occupying his mouth with more important things - “they’re both me. They’re extensions of my own body, as if I grew another arm. I feel everything they feel. I’m touching you now, just with those hands instead of these ones. And, Stark, you feel divine.”

“Oh, yeah?” Tony challenges, breathless but with just enough brainpower left to devote to testing Loki out. “Then tell me how good it is, tell me how _this_ feels-” Tony slides a hand under Loki, where the other ones can’t see, and drags his nails down Loki’s lovely chest.

All three of them hiss, and the one Tony thinks is the real Loki runs his hand over the path of Tony’s touch. “ _That_ feels like you’re too clever for your own good, but if you insist…” He tosses his head, shaking his hair clear of his face. The Loki on top on Tony backs off the onslaught just a little, letting Tony pay a bit more attention to the words. “I can feel your heartbeat everywhere I touch you. It’s fast, desperate. You’ve probably needed this since your captain entered the ring, and everything I do to you makes that need worse.”

“Still not my captain,” Tony gasps, not about to let that bit slide. “Keep fucking talking.”

“I like that,” Loki says. “I like how shameless you are. There are so many reasons you shouldn’t be here, and none of them matter because you want me. So many reasons you shouldn’t give me orders, but you do anyway.” Smooth as anything, the Loki on top of Tony slides both hands up Tony’s arms to grab his wrists and pin them to the bed. Tony’s felt more than enough of Loki’s strength to know he couldn’t move if he wanted to. “I’ve killed people for less disrespect than you’ve shown me, and yet…”

Tony grins, not missing that Loki likes him too much for _his_ own good. That Tony can play with fire all he likes, Loki isn’t going to burn him. “Here I am.”

“Here you are,” Loki agrees, and the copy drops to kiss Tony hard.

Tony kisses back, barely noticing the other two of Loki getting onto the bed, mattress dipping under their weight. He _does_ notice when a cool hand wraps around his cock and squeezes gently, working him the last bit up to fully hard. Tony shudders, and feels the grip still strong on his wrists as well - that makes _three_ hands touching him, and then a fourth and fifth run down Tony’s legs, featherlight brushes of fingertips making him shudder again.

Tony’s been the centerpiece of orgies before, but never like this - never so coordinated, with _all_ of the focus on him. Loki doesn’t get in his own way, and he doesn’t get jealous of himself, and he doesn’t accidentally kneel on his hair, and he’s a fucking sex god to boot - literally, depending on the myths in question.

All of which means Tony gets to sigh out his satisfaction, relax down into the insanely comfortable bed, and let Loki go to town until he wants Tony to actually contribute something.

Which is, of course, the moment Loki chooses to start asking stuff of him.

“Here’s how this is going to work,” Loki’s voice purrs, completely unhindered by the way Loki’s still kissing Tony and another set of lips is sliding down Tony’s calf. “I’m going to fuck you, and you’re going to fuck _me_ , and while you do that, you’re also going to suck my cock.”

Tony squirms free of the kiss, Loki reluctant to let him do it. “So long as you’re in charge of the logistics of that setup, I’ll do anything you tell me.”

“Just as it should be,” Loki declares, and then lifts himself off Tony’s body and sets three pairs of hands to getting him into position. Tony lets Loki manhandle him, gloating at how much effort Loki’s willing to put in to make Tony _just right_ for him. It’s not enough to just have Tony, Loki’s got to have him exactly how he wants him. After a moment, Tony’s kneeling upright in the center of the bed, one Loki pressed up close behind him, the second bent over in front of him on hands and knees, and the third standing just to the side, ready to move in.

Loki passes Tony a bottle of lube from literally nowhere. “Me first.”

“Can do,” Tony says, and opens the bottle to slick his fingers up. In front of Tony, Loki lowers himself so his shoulders touch the bed, stretching out the long lines of his back and tilting his ass a little higher in invitation, or a blatant hint for Tony to get to work. Either way, Tony takes it and pushes two lubed fingers inside Loki’s ass.

“Go quickly,” Loki murmurs from behind Tony. He presses flush against Tony’s back and rolls his hips so Tony can feel the hardness of his cock. “I’m not in the mood to wait.”

“You never are,” Tony says, but moves a little faster anyway.

Loki chuckles. “Why should I have to wait when you’re so eager?”

“Pot, kettle.” Tony finds Loki’s prostate and digs his fingertips in a little, making Loki’s snarky response trail off in a hiss. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. You wouldn’t be wasting your time if you didn’t like this just as much as-”

Tony’s sound argument dissolves with a groan as Loki wraps his hand around Tony’s neck from behind and squeezes commandingly. “I think you have better things to be doing with your mouth than accuse me of enjoying you.”

Oh, so that’s what they’re calling it? _Enjoying_ each other?

Works for Tony.

The third one of Loki, who Tony had almost forgotten about until now, moves forward to stand in front of Tony, straddling the Loki on his knees, and tangles his fingers in Tony’s hair. “Come on,” he coaxes, and oh man, Tony hadn’t realized that all of them could talk, “your debt won’t pay itself.”

“It better not,” Tony says, and leans in to swallow Loki’s cock.

All three of Loki sigh with pleasure, and two of them stroke hands through Tony’s hair. Tony worked out weeks ago that Loki has a bit of a thing for being worshipped, and is very appreciative when it’s done correctly. So Tony throws himself into it and takes Loki’s cock straight to the back of his throat, frees his hands to grab Loki’s hips and hold him steady, and sucks as long and hard as he can.

Loki groans and the hands in Tony’s hair tighten. “Much better use of your mouth,” gasps the one standing over him, and then the one behind him says, “Now to use the rest of you.”

Tony lets things get a little bit blurry after that. He’s conscious of Loki fingering him open, and a hand slicking his cock, the weight of Loki’s cock on his tongue, silky-smooth oil and Loki’s hands doing whatever they want; but he just feels it all without needing to think about it. Tony’s always liked seeing what happens when his partners take the lead, and - unsurprisingly - Loki delivers beautifully every time.

Tony starts paying attention to proceedings again when Loki grabs Tony’s hips, and in a single brutal move that doesn’t seem physically possible, shoves Tony’s cock inside the ass of the Loki on his knees.

Where things were blurry before, now Tony simply forgets about everything else except how good Loki feels - and _that_ he feels with laser-focused intensity. The only input Tony’s brain is accepting right now is the tight grip of Loki’s ass, the slick oil between them, the throbbing beat of his own pulse in his cock. His hips twitch, but he’s savoring the sensations so deeply he can’t even find the coordination to thrust to get more of them. “ _Fuck_ _me_ …”

“Gladly,” Loki says, and pushes his cock back into Tony’s mouth; and in the same moment, Loki behind Tony slides his cock into Tony’s ass.

Time seems to stand still, Tony so stuffed with cock he can’t even move, can only close his eyes and revel in how fucking _good_ this feels. There’s the cool press of Loki’s chest against Tony’s back, and two sets of Loki’s thighs against Tony’s own, the caress of the fur blankets, all mixed up in the headspinning rush that Loki’s worked him into. It’s not even about the anticipation of more - for a minute it’s so good Tony can’t think about what’s supposed to come _next_. 

Then he sucks a bit on Loki’s cock, twitches around Loki’s cock in his ass, and remembers how to do this.

Tony earned both his titles of genius and slut, and he puts them into practice now, setting up a rhythm that flows between the three points of contact, _squeeze, suck, thrust,_ and making sure that Loki’s not thinking about anything except for Tony. For a while Loki’s so fucked from every angle that _he’s_ the one whose higher brain functions have shut down; he can’t even do anything with his hands, just resting them against Tony’s hips and shoulders like he doesn’t know they’re there.

Tony grins around his mouthful, commits to memory the ego-boost of fucking a god senseless, and gets back to work.

It doesn’t take long for Loki to wake back up and realize he’s getting - in Tony’s modest opinion - the best sex of his life. And of course, Loki can’t just _let_ that happen. Now it’s just a race, Tony pushing Loki towards coming and Loki pulling Tony along for the ride. For every trick Tony tries, Loki reciprocates like he’s keeping score - Tony sucks on the cock in his mouth and Loki clenches around Tony’s cock in return, Tony runs his nails down Loki’s thighs and Loki drags his lips up Tony’s neck. It should be easy to tip Loki over the edge, with three of him to work on, except that there’s three of him working equally hard to push Tony over first.

It’s a competition Tony’s happy to lose - once he’s exhausted the possibility of winning.

He throws himself into it, no more strategizing, just instinct and whatever feels best. And what feels best is leaning into the Loki behind him, taking his cock as deep as he can, rolling his hips so it hits everything just right. And then the cock in Tony’s mouth needs attention, for Tony’s tongue to trace every inch of it - there are a lot of inches and he wants all of them. And Tony’s not neglecting his own cock, of course, grabbing the hips of the Loki on his knees, and pulling him back to fuck him harder.

And the _best_ part is that selfishness pays off, that everything Tony does is making Loki fall apart at the seams. The Loki standing above them is gasping for air, chest heaving, head fallen back, far more wrecked than he was during the fight. The Loki behind Tony is fucking him in short, deep thrusts, refusing to pull out by more than an inch before slamming back in. His head’s fallen to Tony’s shoulder, breaths hitting Tony’s skin, and Tony can feel every thrust before it comes, the way Loki’s whole body coils with tension before releasing it into Tony. And the Loki on his knees is no better off, hands fisted in the sheets and shoving his hips back to meet every one of Tony’s thrusts.

Tony just has to find the right thread to pull to unravel everything…

He gazes up the length of Loki’s body, and pulls his mouth off Loki’s cock. He lifts a hand to squeeze that Loki’s hip and get his attention. “Look at me.”

By some small miracle, Loki does, letting his head fall to stare down at Tony and the other two Lokis at his feet.

Tony reaches around to cup the head of the Loki behind him, and pulls him into a kiss.

Loki kisses him back desperately; above them, Loki gasps and his hips stutter forward. Tony goes to wrap his free hand around that Loki’s cock and give him some stimulation back, but Loki gets there first, jerking himself off with quick strokes. Tony grins into the kiss, keeping one eye on that Loki, and pushes his tongue between Loki’s lips.

And with a view like that, Loki can’t _not_ come.

Three bodies shudder around Tony, Loki’s come splashes his face and his ass, Loki clenches tight around Tony’s cock - and that’s it, it’s too much, and the pressure snaps taut and Tony comes as well. And then he keeps doing it, because no matter which way he moves, there’s something there to make the pleasure spike all over again - Loki’s ass around his cock, or _Loki’s_ cock in _his_ ass, or the brush of Loki’s mouth against his.

But eventually it subsides, and Tony starts feeling things other than ecstasy - like how the twist of his neck is not doing him any favors, and how the mattress might be crazy soft but Tony’s knees are still worn out.

He announces, “I would like to lie down now.”

Loki - one of him, anyway - hums agreement, and slowly starts separating them. The standing one backs away, and the one behind Tony slides his cock out of Tony’s ass. Tony hisses as his stretched muscles try to close around nothing, then forgets all about that as the third Loki pulls himself off Tony’s cock, a slick, intense caress before it’s gone again, and Tony’s allowed to settle back into his own body.

He falls to the mattress face first, not bothering to aim for the pillows. Now that he’s not doing any more work to hold himself up, the afterglow eases to something more languid, and he savors it for long moments.

Loki drops to the mattress next to him, and Tony opens his eyes to see just the one of him again, the two copies gone without a trace, except for how utterly wrung out Tony feels. Damn, he is _not_ in college anymore. “I’m definitely gonna need that snack.”

Loki grins up at the ceiling. “Satisfied?”

“I’m so satisfied I can’t even move, so, yeah. I think maybe I owe you _two_ favors now. Paying off a debt probably isn’t meant to feel that good.”

Loki waves the offer away gently. “It was a fair trade. I enjoyed humiliating Rogers just as much as you enjoyed repaying me for it. He’s rather irritating, isn’t he? I expect sooner or later he would have done something to provoke me, even without our arrangement.”

Tony snorts. “He’s good at that, for sure. Your little rage-fest at the end wasn’t scripted, was it? That was one hundred percent you fucking him up for your own purposes. You know, when humans call somebody a son of a bitch, it’s not meant literally. Rogers was definitely trying to insult you, don’t get me wrong, but it didn’t really have anything to do with your mother.”

“Of course I know,” Loki says. “It merely provided an excellent excuse for me to put him through your floor.”

Tony props his head up on his arms, and stares at the lines of Loki’s profile. He fully expects Loki to be smart enough to have picked up on the nuances of the English language, to have taken advantage of the slander without _really_ feeling it, but… Tony can also see it going the other way: that Steve hit a very sensitive spot, and Loki’s concealing that he grossly overreacted. “Why do I get the feeling you might be lying?”

Loki shrugs a shoulder, rustling the sheets. “It _is_ one of my titles, but I’m actually not a very good liar.”

Tony blinks. “Yeah, but now I can’t tell if you’re lying about _that_.”

Loki laughs - genuinely, bright and happy - and rolls over to face Tony. He’s smiling softly, eyes warm, amused by Tony’s joke, and…

Oh, dear.

A smile like that could get a genius with cybernetic enhancements into a _lot_ of trouble.

**Author's Note:**

> There will be another two fics in this series!
> 
> As ever, my betas: [Haldane](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Haldane/) and [Apples](https://appleslostherpassword.tumblr.com/), and my [tumblr](http://ao3-arkada.tumblr.com/).


End file.
